Freefall
by freeflowers
Summary: Janelle just moved to a small town in Minnesota, where she finds Sam and Dean in the midst of a hunt. Craving an adventure, what happens when this city girl crosses paths with this particular pair of hunters?
1. Chapter 1

The night shone with stars like the twinkling city lights Janelle had grown up with. It was quiet here, and most people would describe it as peaceful; but Janelle hated it. She missed the constant, muffled, murmur of traffic through her bedroom window. She missed the sirens at night. Even though they were always a bad sign, it made her feel like no matter what happened someone would be there to help her. She missed the people too. They could be rude, but she had always felt more comfortable in a large crowd. Most of all, Janelle missed the lights. She missed how it never got dark; there were always lights on. Neon signs flashing, and street lights flickering. Lit windows 50 feet above her head. Here, it was always quiet. There were only a few people out during the day, let alone at night. Here, it was dark. She didn't like the dark.

Janelle stood on the empty sidewalk outside her motel. It wasn't a fancy place, but it was only temporary until she found a place to live. There was really only one option, as far as apartments went, and it wasn't nice. She'd been hoping to find something more her style, but it became clear to her that the only other option was to build a house. That was definitely not going to happen. So, the apartment was a go, but she'd have to find a way to really make it her own. And sterilize it.

She let out a deep, shaky breath. The air was crisp and cool, which was really the only good thing about the town. It was of the beaten path, and not a lot of people went there. Her parents had thought her coming here would be good for her, get her to let loose. Relax. Janelle knew differently. Surrounding herself with strange, new things had never boded well for her anxiety. Everyone said 'getting back to nature' would help her to forget, so Janelle had sucked it up and done as her parents said. It wasn't worth the fight; they always won anyways.

She couldn't help but be bitter that her parents still had this much control over her at her age. When she was young, Janelle had pictured herself engaged with a handsome fiance, and planning a summer wedding by now. She thought she'd be starting up at a law firm, and kicking off her career with a bang. Instead, she was living in a hick town in the middle of Minnesota, with a degree in Law and nothing to show for it. Her parents had paid her way through school, and now they were paying for her to waste her life in Ponemah, Minnesota.

She had thought a walk would do her some good, but upon realizing how cold it was out, and that it was as dark as her mothers heart, Janelle returned to her room. It was about 2 anyways, and all the locals would be leaving the bar. Janelle ad made the mistake of going their last night. She had thought she might meet some people, but all she'd met were middle aged bikers looking for a 'good time'. Disgusted, she'd left. Running into any of those guys again was the last thing she wanted.

Janelle was snapped back to reality when she heard laughter from outside. Peering through the dingy curtain, she saw two men. One was tall, and the other was even taller. The bigger guy seemed to be supporting the smaller one, who was visibly drunk out of his mind. More laughter emanated from the pair of them as the smaller one fell to the ground. It became clear to Janelle the big one was also drunk when he just fell on top of him.

Usually, Janelle was annoyed by this behaviour, and would have just jammed her earphones in and gone to sleep, but the two of them were too attractive, and Janelle was craving human companionship. She hadn't spoken to anyone but her mother on the phone since she got here two days ago. Unless you count the middle aged bikers at the bar. She shuddered at the thought.

When she nervously pushed open the door to her room, the laughter amplified. She could here them murmuring slurred insults at one another, before cracking up in a fit of giggles all over again. She decided to go about this calmly and confidently. She was hoping they'd be staying a while, and if they were, she wanted something to do with them. Striding towards the men, Janelle called out to them.

"Do you guys need help?" At the sound of her voice, both heads snapped up and out of their fit of laughter. The bigger one, or the less drunk one stumbled to his feet, and brushed himself off. He was obviously embarrassed, and Janelle felt a little guilty. The other guy just started laughing on the ground some more.

"Oh, um hi! I'm Sam." Sam held out his hand for her to shake. Although he was having a hard time standing upright, Janelle could see he was attractive. With a well defined jaw line and prominent brows, he was gorgeous. He had thick, silky, brown hair and broad shoulders. He stood at least a foot taller than her, but she wasn't intimidated at all. He seemed like a nice guy.

"Sam. Nice to meet you, I'm Janelle." She flashed her most flirtatious smile. She liked the way saying his name felt. It was natural. There was almost an awkward pause, and Sam blushed. "So, do you want a hand getting your friend back to your room?" She broke the silence.

"Dean? No he's fine." Sam smiled reassuringly at her. Janelle was skeptical, and she was right to be because immediately after Sam had finished speaking, Dean emptied his stomach contents into the parking lot. "On second thought, maybe a little help would be nice." Sam blushed again.

Helping Sam lift his friend to his feet, Janelle let him put most of his weight on her. She knew Sam couldn't handle it, because he was also pretty intoxicated.

"So what's your relationship with this one?" Janelle wanted to make sure he wasn't playing for the other team.

"He's my brother. We're on a road trip." Sam seemed only half excited about it. Janelle was about to ask about it as they were nearing the door, but Sam cut her off. "Well, thanks for your help, but I think I've got him from here. What room are you in? That way I can give you a proper, sober thank you in the morning." Sam joked with her, and this time it was Janelle's turn to blush. He was cute.

"I'm three doors down. 113."

"Okay, cool. Yeah, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow morning then?"

"Yeah, for sure." She smiled at Sam again, and he smiled back before closing the door behind him.

Janelle wasn't really sure what had just happened, because that interaction wasn't really her kind of thing. She didn't drink, and she hated being around drunk people. But Sam was cute. That night, she tossd and turned, impatient for morning, and impatient to speak with Sam again.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke up at 9:34am. His head hurt, and he felt sick. Both he and his brother had stayed out at the local bar until it closed. The night of heavy drinking had left him feeling this way, and he couldn't help but smile. He and Dean hadn't done that in a very long time. He vaguely remembered falling over in the parking lot outside, and there had been a girl, but he couldn't remember much else. She had been pretty. He knew this because of the way his stomach tied itself in knots at the thought of her, but he couldn't remember her.

Sam looked across the room at his sleeping brother. Maybe 'sleeping' wasn't the best word for it. Perhaps comatose, or passed out. Dean had gotten way too drunk the night before. Sam knew he'd had a lot, but Dean had really let go. Thankfully, they'd taken out the vamp's nest the day figured that they could just have a rest day, and recooperate before getting back on the road.

Feeling a familiar nausea settle over him, Sam stumbled out of bed and towards the bathroom to let his body rid itself of last night's poison. Sam sat on the bathroom floor for a while, racking his brain for any more memories of the girl. She wasn't at the bar, it was outside the motel. Other than that though, Sam couldn't remember anything.

Disgruntled and appalled at himself for forgetting her name, Sam stood up and looked at his reflection. There it was, written sloppily, in soap on the mirror. 'Janelle 113'. Sam knew it was her name, and guessed room number. After a quick, cold shower and popping an aspirin, Sam trudged back into the main part of the small motel room. Dean hadn't moved a muscle. Deciding to let his brother sleep, Sam flopped back onto his bed. He figured he'd head over to room 113 to see if that was her room number after all, but for now he wanted to let the medication kick in, and calm his headache.

After another 20 minutes, Sam dressed himself. Too hungover and lazy to put on socially acceptable clothes, Sam pulled on a pair of grey sweats and a crisp, white t-shirt. He hoped that Janelle wasn't going to judge him, but he didn't have it in him to put anything else on.

Sam shut the door behind him with an audible 'click', and walked three doors down from the motel room. 115, 114, 113. This was it. Hopefully.

He knocked, and seconds later the door swug open to reveal a petite blonde girl. Suddenly, Sam regretted his outfit of choice. Janelle was about 5'2 and slender. She had a muscular build, but still feminine. Her jeans were formfitting, and showed of her legs. Her rosy cheeks flushed at the sight of him, and her already sparkling green eyes lit up with her smile. She looked genuinely happy to see him. Sam just felt confusion, and embarrassment.

"You must be Janelle? I'm Sam." He smiled, blushed, and thust out his hand for Janelle to shake. She smirked upon taking it. "I am so sorry for anything my brother or I might have done last night, I really don't know what happened." He blushed more.

"I was wondering if you'd remember me, but honestly, the pair of you fell down in the parking lot, so I figured I'd help you back to your room." She grinned, showing off her gleaming white teeth. "It was nothing, really."

"Well, would you like to get some breakfast with me anyways? I'm not sure either of us could have made it back to the room without your help." Sam laughed at himself a little. "My treat."

"Is this like a date? Sam, I don't even know your last name!" Janelle was mock-appalled.

"I don't know yours, either! For all I know you could be some sort of freak with a 6th toe on your left foot!" Feeling bold, Sam winked at her.

"And for all I know, you could have some weird fetish with watching girls eat breakfast. I don't know Sam, this is a pretty big risk for me." She played, and Sam went with it.

"Oh, you caught me! The whole plan was to get you to the diner and order your food, while I watched. 'No thank you waiter, I prefer to watch.' Of course." Janelle laughed at Sam's mockery. A broad grin spread across his face.

"Well, Sam-who-gets-off-to-girls-eating-breakfast, I suppose I'll have to take my chances with you."

"I guess I'll be taking mine with you too, Janelle-with-a-sixth-toe" The two laughed together, and Sam lead her to the impala. "Just hold on, I'm gonna grab the keys."

When Sam returned with the keys, Janelle had totally zoned out, arms folded across her chest. Her golden hair fell in bouncy waves to a few inches beneath her shoulders. She was attractive, and Sam couldn't help but flirt around her. He knew it was a bad idea, they'd be leaving as soon as they finished the case. But he told himself that one breakfast couldn't hurt.

"Hey! Earth to Janelle? Anyone in there?" Sam waved his hand in front of her face, and she jolted back to reality.

"Oh, sorry! Sometimes I'm just off in my own little world." She said it with a smile. Sam opened the car door for her, and gestured for her to sit. "My, oh my! What a gentleman!" Janelle slid into the passenger seat of the impala.

Jumping into the drivers seat, Sam couldn't help but smile. He felt the heat rush into his cheeks. He was blushing, again.

"Shy, are we, Sam?" Janelle winked at him. He blushed even more, and turned away from her to hide it. He started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

"I'm not shy, I just have naturally rosy cheeks." Sam whispered indignantly, a smile still planted firmly on his face.

"Oh, of course." Janelle turned and looked straight ahead, smiling to herself.

"So, where's the best place to eat?" Sam and Dean had only been in town since yesterday, and he had the feeling Janelle had been around a little while longer. Nobody just hangs out in a little motel in a town like this for no reason. His guess was that she was staying for a while.

"You might want to ask, where's the only place to eat?" Janelle corrected him bitterly.

"Not a fan of the food, or...?" Sam was genuinely curious about why her tone had suddenly gotten so sour. She had been perfectly bubbly and happy all morning so far.

"It's not the food, it's the town I'm not a fan of." Janelle was curt with her sentence, so Sam decided not to pry into that. It wasn't his place to ask her personal questions, especially not on the first 'date'.

"Well, it can't be all bad." Sam waited for a reaction that she didn't give. "I mean, I'm here right?" That time Janelle turned to scowl at him, though he could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh at his cheesy joke.

"Well, you're the first person I've spoken to except for the waitress and a few creepy old men, so yeah, you're at the top of my list of favourite things in this town." Janelle forced a smile. Sam immediately felt a twinge of guilt at her words. He'd be leaving soon, and he figured she'd be staying.

"Well, while I'm in town I'll try to make it a nicer place for you." Sam smiled reassuringly at her. He didn't know why she was here if she hated it so much. She looked like she was in her early twenties, she had her entire life ahead of her. Why waste it doing something you don't want to do? Like spend time in a redneck fishing town in Minnesota. He took her as a city kind of girl, not a counrty one. She just seemed so out of place here.

"I appreciate that, Sam." She smiled at him as he pulled into a spot just down the street from the little diner. Racing out of the car, Sam jumped around to open up her door for her. "Again? You really are a gentleman." She seemed to have her spunk back, and Sam liked that.

The diner was sort of run down, but that was to be expected of a town this size. The red booths were torn, and then duct taped back together; the wooden tables scratched, and marked with smatterings of crayon. Janelle lead the way to a booth at the far wall of the building, next to a window. Sam had to give the town credit, it was built in a beautiful spot. The diner looked out over the large lake the town was settled in.

"Hi there, my names Mikayla and I'll be your waitress today!" Mikayla was probably about Janelle's age. She was taller though, with white blonde hair that was teased and hairsprayed into this weird poof at the top of her head, and then pulled into a long ponytail. While Janelle was small and slender, Mikayla was curvy, and wore smelled too strongly of some kind of sickly sweet perfume. She looked like she belonged in the south, not small town Minnesota. Her uniform was too tight, and her boobs were almost falling out of it. She seemed like a girl Dean would love to spend the night with. Mikayla placed a glass in front of Janelle, and then gave Sam a once over. She placed his water in front of him too, but she bent down a little far, practically shoving her breasts in his face. He closed his eyes and tried to hide his discomfort, but Janelle just snorted at him from across the table.

"What can I get y'all today?" Her head bobbed when she spoke, and it turned out she did have that southern drawl. Sam couldn't help but think she reminded him of both a barbie, and a bobble head at the same time.

"Can I get a coffee, black of course, and I think Bacon and scrambled eggs?" Janelle tried her best to be polite, but Sam could see she was having a hard time with it.

"Yeah, sure." The barbie doll was not at all interested in Janelle's order, and quickly scratched it into her notebook. "Now, what can I get for you, sweetie pie." Mikayla winked at Sam, who was taken aback and confused. Janelle could hardly stifle her laugh this time.

"I'll just get the same as her." Sam managed to stumble through the sentence, but he avoided eye contact with the bobble head the entire time.

"Comin' right up, sweet-cheeks." She laid a hand on his shoulder and reached down, again a little too far, to grab the menus. Sam gagged on her perfume, but managed to hide it to stay polite.

"Thanks." He muttered as Mikayla walked away, on hand on her swaying hips.

"Well, THAT was something special." Janelle laughed again, more heartily this time. If Sam had been blushing before, it was nothing compared to this.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sam lied, and tried to force the redness out of his cheeks. Janelle scoffed.

"Sure, and I bet you think you're not blushing right now, too." Janelle poked more fun with Sam. His blush deepened, and he looked away. "Hey, I'm sorry. I just can't stand girls like that. First of all, get a proper sized shirt. Second, ease up on the perfume. Thirdly, if you're getting a guy's attention entirely with your tits and body, he's probably not the kind of boy you want to enter a relationship with." Sam agreed with everything she had said, but there was something about how serious she was. She really felt strongly about it, and Sam thought it wasn't really a big deal. Some girls play stupid to get laid, and he had come to peace with that.

"Yeah, you're right. But anyways, I'd like to know more about you, Ms. Freak-with-six-toes." Sam leaned in, mocking over excitement and pretending to be quite anxious to hear her answer.

"Well, I'd like to know your last name, Mr. Gets-off-to-girls-eating." They stared each other in the eyes for a moment, before erupting with laughter.

Mikayla soon returned with the two plates of food. Since they'd ordered the same thing, it was clear to see that Janelle had gotten the short end of the stick meal wise. Sam had a few extra slices of bacon, and they and been arranged into a heart formation. He groaned at the sight.

"There you go, cutie-cake! I hope you like it. I made sure to get you a little extra." As she was running her hand down Sam's shoulder, she flashed him a rather flirtatious look. Janelle rolled her eyes.

"Well, that's just not fair. Look at this." Janelle gestured to her plate, which featured overcooked scrambled eggs, and three strips of half blackened bacon. She then looked at Sam's again, and he had six slices of juicy, meaty bacon, and double the eggs. Plus, his were cooked properly.

"Look, I'll share!" Sam winked. "It's not my fault I'm so handsome." He shoved three of his bacon strips on to Janelle's plate, and shoveled over some egg too. "Don't eat the food she gave you. I have this sneaking suspicion she may have spit in it. I don't think she likes you much." Sam dug in and took a bite out of his first bacon strip.

"Oh, thank you. You are too kind." Janelle's words were borderline sarcastic, but he could see the relief in her eyes. Shooting her an encouraging smile, Sam couldn't help but notice that as much as she was passing it off like she thought this girl was a joke, she seemed hurt, or offended by what had happened. There was something else going on. Suddenly, she jerked upright, with a look of determination written on her face.

"Okay, I know this is going to sound totally crazy, but trust me." Janelle leaned in close to whisper to Sam. He had a bad feeling about it. "I've seen this girl before, and not here. It's a long story, but I swear she was there, the night..." Janelle trailed off. Her face darkened. Sam cocked his head to the side in concern. Snapping back into it, Janelle furiously whispered "The point is that this 'waitress', has been in the same place as me for the past month. She was in San Francisco when I left, and then she was in Minneapolis when my flight landed. And now, pf all things, she's here. There is just absolutely no way this is a coincidence." Janelle searched his eyes urgently for answers. Sam sneaked a glance at the waitress. Black eyes. His stomach dropped.

"Okay, Janelle, I believe you, and it isn't good. Please trust me on this, and do exactly as I say. Don't look now, but she's looking over here. And she doesn't look happy. Laugh like I'm saying something funny." Janelle let out a giglge, and smiled adoringly at Sam. "Good, hold my hand." Sam reached his hand across the table, and looked at Janelle like she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. She might have been, but he let it show. "Okay, I'm going to get up, and we're going to make it look like we're happily headed home for some post-breakfast sex. Okay?" Janelle briefly looked skeptical, before giving him a tiny nod and committing to the role. Sam stood.

"Ready to go?" He raised his eyebrows at her in a show of mock of seduction.

"Mhmm." Janelle hummed sensually in his ear, and giggled playfully. Sam grasped her hand in his, and the 'couple' walked out together, leaving the money on the table.

"Okay, the act stays until we get to my motel room. Please, you have to trust me." Sam whispered; Janelle nodded.

Sam opened the door for Janelle, and then climbed into the driver's seat. The car started with a rumble, and Sam started the drive back to the motel room.

"Okay, Sam, what is going on?" Janelle looked desperate, and Sam hated to have to tell her this. He also knew this killed anything they had going.

"That girl wasn't a girl. She was possessed by a demon." Sam felt his heart sink, as he heard the confused intake of breath they always got when you had to tell them. Civilians. He sighed. Looking over at his companion, he noticed that her eyes had widened considerably. He had been expecting the usual annoyance, or disbelief, but Janelle's reaction wasn't like that. She believed him. Just like that. The look in her eyes was pure fear. "Janelle? You okay?" Janelle didn't react, or acknowledge that Sam was speaking. She just looked straight ahead into the road. Eyes wide, mouth squeezed tight shut.

"You know, Janelle. Most people freak out when they hear a demon is following them. What's going on?" Sam needed answers, and he needed them now before he got back to Dean. _Dean._ He was probably still sleeping, and when he woke up, he would certainly not be feeling ready to excersize a demon. "Janelle? I need to know."

"I don't know. I _knew_ there was something wrong with it all. I knew it." She just muttered to herself in terror, as Sam tore down the street. He was almost certain that the demon had caught on to their little performance, and would likely arrive to the party shortly after Sam and Janelle arrived home. In any case, Sam was lucky he'd been brushing up on his Latin.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well congrats to me for getting two followers on my story, so thank you to both of you! Also, I'd like to apologize because of my inability to write action scenes. This is good for me, because I've been working very hard to make it okay, so some feedback and tips would be much appreciated! Also, this chapter is quite short, but don't worry, I have big plans for the next one. Thank you!**

"Dean, you've gotta get up. There's a demon on the way over." Sam burst through the door in a fury, an oddly calm Janelle was following closely behind. Dean, who had still been sleeping in a hungover trance, shot up and glared at Sam. Dean's eyes were bloodshot, and he was wearing a wrinkled white t-shirt, and red plaid boxers. His hair was a mess, and he smelled like vomit and alcohol. Sam recoiled at the stench.

"What do you mean there's a demon, Sammy? What happened?" Dean groaned. Anger and disappointment both evident on his face. Sam hated to see that look in his brother's eyes. It usuallly meant he'd fucked up, but this time it had been unavoidable.

"I mean there's a demon on it's way over, but there's no time to explain. We've gotta salt the room." Sam urged. "Here, Janelle, pour a salt line in front of the windows." Sam tore into a bag of supplies and grabbed a container full of salt. She caught it without hesitation and set to work. It was a fleeting thought, but Sam realized that Janelle was much too calm about this.

Sam rushed for a can of spray paint and sprayed a devil's trap on the ceiling above the door, and by each of the windows. Dean, who was more hungover than he'd been since his late teens, had rolled out of the bed and snatched up the colt. Sam, now finished painting the ceiling, looked at Dean disdainfully, and took the colt from him.

"You're too drunk for that. Here." Sam handed him the demon killing knife they'd picked up a while back. Dean scowled, and begrudgingly took the knife from his brother. Sam noticed that Janelle hadn't flinched at all of the weapons. Most people thought they were insane, or terrorists. Most often, both. Instead, a defeated look of dread had settled over her.

Before Sam could say anything to her, there was a loud bang on the door.

"Sam, Dean, please just let me have the girl. It has nothing to do with you. I will go back to hell and save you the trouble, if you just hand over that girl." The southern drawl of the waitress rang out through the door. She was annoyed.

"Not a damn chance, demon." Sam yelled back.

"Just open the door, we can have a chat. I promise I won't hurt you." said the Demon. There was desperation in her voice. She was pleading to have this girl, but it didn't make sense. He glanced at Dean, who nodded. They had an emergency plan for times like these. Sam had the gun pointed, Dean was standing behind the door with the knife, ready to stab if anything went wrong. Janelle, had selected a gun loaded with rock salt. Sam had noticed her look through them, as if she knew what she was looking for. He had just assumed that she was a city girl stuck in small town Minnesota, but there was something weird happening.

Sam swiftly made his way to the door, and unlocked it. He brushed aside the salt keeping the demon out. Running back to his position, he aimed the colt at the slowly opening door. He heard a chuckle emanate from the throat of the monster.

"Well, well, well. That was stupid to let me in." chortled the Demon, who stepped into the room with confidence, only to be stuck. She looked up to see the devil's trap. Her head snapped back to being upright, the fury in her eyes was all too real, and Sam couldn't help but smirk and shake his head in triumph. This one was a low pay grade, stupid enough to fall for that.

"Well, well, well. You were dumb enough to come in." Dean mimicked. "What do you want with this girl? She's a civilian." He sounded dumbfounded and accusatory, as he should be. It wasn't usual that demons had a personal vendetta against humans who didn't even know that monsters and ghosts and things existed. This barbie wannabe demon had a vicious hatred towards the petite woman, and neither Sam nor Dean could figure it out.

"That bitch is no civilian, she sent me back to hell!" the Demon spat out the words angrily, red faced and tense, muscles and veins bulging. Sam felt a rock in the pit of his stomach, a catch in his throat. Janelle seemed to shrink farther into herself. She was a small girl, but somehow managed to make herself smaller. When Sam tried to make eye contact with her, she just gave him a small shrug and a weak smile. "I've been on her trail for months! And then you two idiots had to come along and spoil my fun. Not impressed, boys." She pouted at them a little bit, and batted her fake eyelashes. This was a sassy Demon. Sam hated these ones, they were so frustrating to deal with.

"Why wait to kill her? Sounds like you're the one who fucked up, Barbie." Dean retorted, rolling his eyes. He had similar sentiments as Sam towards the sassier demons.

"This small town was the first chance I got. I wanted it to be private. I like this meat suit, and if I had incriminated her, it would have been a lot harder to keep. I mean, look at me; I've never looked better!" The Demon let out a loud and annoying laugh at her own comment. Sam had never met a more annoying Demon. By the looks of Dean, neither had he. It was easy to see why one would exorcise it, but Sam and Dean preferred more permanent solutions.

"Well, hell bitch, I have never been more happy to kill a Demon. You're the most annoying thing." With that, Dean lunged at the shrieking Demon, and slit her throat. Janelle sighed. Dean had literally just killed someone in front of her, and Janelle just sighed, with an unsightly grimace scrawled across her porcelain face.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had taken care of the body, and the two brothers were sitting on one unmade bed in the cramped motel room, across from Janelle. She was perched nervously on the edge of the bed opposite Sam and Dean. Her palms sweating, and her foot nervously tapping. The light tank top she was wearing felt heavy and confining in the small space, and she wiped her palms on her jeans. Eyes flitting nervously around the room, Janelle was anxious. It was a feeling she was quite used to, and it had become easy for her to identify. Usually she was able to keep calm and hold a straight face, but this was too much. Hunters. Again.

"Alright, no more awkward silence. Janelle, it's clear you know more than we thought you did. What's going on?" asked Dean. Janelle was almost thankful for the silence to be broken. Almost. She didn't want to tell this story.

"I know you're hunters. I know about demons and all that shit. That's all you need to know. Trust me." Janelle spoke confidently, the face of a lawyer. She felt hollow though, the usual feeling of ambition was no where to be found. She didn't know what to tell them, which was unlike her. She was usually an incredible liar, and these kind of things came to her. Dean and Sam exchanged a dubious glance.

"Okay, honey. That one's obvious, we're going to need a little more than that." Sarcasm was dripping from Dean's voice. Janelle scowled at him. Glancing at Sam, she could tell he was worried. His eyes squinted into pure anxiety. He was such a sweet guy, why did he have to be a hunter? Their lives were so messy, and messy was the very last thing Janelle needed. Janelle decided not to respond to Dean's sarcasm, and settled for a smug shrug of her narrow shoulders.

"You're not getting away with that one, I'm sorry, but you just woke me up to a raging hangover and a demon at my front door! You owe me a damn explanation." Dean had lost his temper. Janelle had barely spoken to him, but it was easy to see that he was the leader out of the two of them. He shouldn't have been, from what she could see. He was quick to anger and acted rashly. The waitress might have been saved with an exorcism, rather than the weird demon killing knife. Which was another thing, where had they found that? Janelle was aching to know.

"Sorry, Dean. You're not getting any information talking to me like that." she said. Dean was visibly annoyed, which was exactly where she wanted him. This was too easy with someone like Dean, and Janelle knew all the right buttons to push. "But since you want to know so badly, I'll tell you what. Question for question." Janelle smiled. She had stopped nervously tapping her feet, and her breathing had regulated. Her green eyes focused on Dean's. Dean chuckled to himself.

"It doesn't work like that. You tell me, or you can sit on that bed for the next 48 hours." Dean's laugh faded to a serious remark. It was Janelle's turn to laugh.

"I'm sure I can handle 48 hours, doll." She shot him a stunning white toothed smile. Dean rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Fine by me. I'm going for lunch. Sam want anything?" Sam shook his head no. "Don't let her go anywhere." With that, Dean slammed the door behind him.

"Look Janelle, I know you don't want to tell us, but it's important. It's our job to keep you safe." Sam finally spoke. Janelle was almost surprised by it, she'd figured he'd be silent. He seemed like the strong silent type, and she wasn't sure what she made of their breakfast. His brother clearly bossed him around.

"You don't have to let him tell you what to do, Sam." Janelle spoke softly, looking at her feet. He seemed taken aback, and a little offended.

"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you, and your protection." Sam responded, offended, and borderline hurt. This boy really wore his heart on his sleeve. Janelle trusted him, but she wasn't about to pour out her life story to him.

"Why is it your job to take care of me, Sam? I can handle myself." Janelle retorted. She was certainly offended. Sam's face donned a look of confusion and judgement. Disdainful disbelief. He looked at her like she was crazy, which only made her more angry.

"Janelle, you clearly can't. You had a demon on your trail for months, and you didn't even know it. God only knows how many more are after you." Sam raised his voice. Who was he to tell her what she could and couldn't do?

"Yeah, well I'll know for next time." Janelle stood and grabbed her bag. "I'm going to my room, and then I'm going to look into an apartment. I'm moving here, and I need to get it taken care of. Thank you for all your help, Sam." She went to pass by him, but Sam stepped in front of her.

"Sorry, Janelle. I can't let you go." Sam looked torn about keeping her. Janelle was shocked.

"Excuse me? You can't do that, Sam. It's against the law." Janelle looked at him like he'd grown a third head. Sam just smirked.

"It's against the law? Yes it is. But so is killing a woman possessed by a demon. I figured you'd get that we don't exactly play by the rules." Janelle felt heat rise in her cheeks. She was blushing in embarrassment, which only made her angry.

"I don't care what rules you play by! I just want out of this room!" she shrieked. She immediately felt her temper rising, and she reminded herself to keep it in check. "Sorry. I know you're just trying to keep me safe, or whatever." She sat back on the bed. "I'll make you a deal, Sam. I won't be a pain in the ass anymore if you tell me where you got that knife." Janelle nodded at the demon killing knife on the nightstand.

"Deal. We got it off of a demon we killed in California. She thought she could trick us into siding with her on some stuff, but we took the knife and killed her with it. Demons are demons." Sam had been honest, and finished the story with a smile. Janelle nodded appreciatively. It only made sense that demons had the shit that killed demons. Luke had needed one of those. Feeling a wave of emotions wash over her, Janelle pushed his face from her mind. She forced a smile back at him.

"I know you don't want to tell me, but please. We need to know. We can't just leave you here without knowing you'll be okay." Sam reasoned with her. She knew it was about his own peace of mind.

"I took a year off law school to hunt. That's about it really." Janelle shrugged. That was basically it. Sam laughed, and she shot him an offended look. Once he had pulled himself together, he spoke.

"Sorry, it's just that I also took a year off of law school to hunt. I just never went back." Sam's smile quickly faded into sadness. The sad look only lasted a moment, and Janelle wasn't entirely sure she'd seen it. Sam was strange, because he was such a lively person. He was a fun guy, mostly. He had some weird moments, but he was entertaining to be around. Although, he got pretty serious a lot. Especially around his brother. His brother wasn't really someone Janelle wanted to spend a lot of time with. He reminded her of Luke, and she didn't like that at all.

"I guess we've got a lot in common, then." Janelle flirted. Sam just kind of smiled sadly and shook his head. Which was frustrating for Janelle, because he didn't say much. She didn't either, so it was only fair, though.

"I doubt it." Sam smirked at her. Janelle knew that she looked like an innocent daddy's girl from the suburbs, and she resented it a little bit. She dressed like this to avoid hunters. Truth be told, she liked hunting, and she missed it. What she didn't miss so much, was having feelings for her partner. Janelle was confused about Sam, and she knew it would end messy. He's a hunter. Don't date hunters. That was her only rule about dating. No hunters.

"Yeah, I do too." Janelle looked at her feet and felt herself blush a little.

"So, what brings you to this part of the Country? You don't really seem like a redneck country girl, you know?" Sam had done a shitty job of changing the subject, and Janelle didn't really want to answer that question, but his beautiful grin caught her off guard.

"My parents thought I needed a break from all the stress of city living, and being a lawyer, and all." she said while nervously tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Looking up from her feet, Janelle saw Sam smiling at her reassuringly. She felt kind of guilty. Janelle told a half truth, which was better than a lie. She had to remind herself that she didn't have to feel bad for not sharing her life story with him, after all, she knew hardly anything about him. "What about you? Well, I guess you're hunting something. What got you into hunting, though?" It was her turn to know something about Sam.

"It's the family business." Sam said flatly, with almost a grimace on his face. Something told Janelle he didn't really want to be in the family business.

"Not too excited about that, are you?" Janelle remarked. She cocked her head to the side waiting for a response. Sam snorted.

"Lets just say I would have liked to stay at law school." He smiled at her. "How did you get into hunting?" Sam asked her.

"A friend got me into it, somehow or another."

Janelle and Sam were both very vague with each other, and they then sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't the awkward kind of silence that Janelle hated so much. She usually hated all silence, but not the silence with Sam. It was comfortable, even though she knew that neither of them were telling the whole truth. She liked Sam and she wanted him to trust her. She wanted him to like her. That old, unfamiliar feeling rushed into her tummy when she looked at him. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, about anyone. That emotional connection she felt to him was all she ever wanted. She yearned for him to feel that way about her too. Feelings like that lead people to do things they usually wouldn't do. The butterflies in Janelle's tummy floated into her brain to whisper thoughts of happiness. Under their instruction, Janelle told him about Luke.

"Luke was who got me into hunting." Janelle whispered. Sam looked up from staring at his sneakers. "He came while I was in my third year of Law School. He was hunting a werewolf, and he saved my life." She shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world. "He stuck around for a while, I figured he wanted to make sure I was safe, but he just liked me. I liked him too. We started dating, and then he had to go do a job somewhere. I stayed behind, and missed him like crazy the whole time he was away. I couldn't focus on school, or really on anything." Janelle's eyes were filled with memories and pain, and it was evident she was lost in her own mind.

"What did you do?" Sam asked her, setting her back on track. Janelle snapped back to reality.

"When he left the next time, I went with him. It was the right thing for me. I learned to hunt, and things were really great for a while." She smiled at the memories. "Then they weren't so great. We started fighting over little things, just nothing important at all. I decided to go back to school, and he didn't stop me. He didn't even try." Janelle had tears welling in her eyes, and Sam had moved to sit next to her. "So, I went back to school. I finished law school, graduated, and settled back in at home. I had moved on, and I hadn't seen him in over a year when it happened." Her voice broke a little.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me. I get it." Sam reassured her, but Janelle kept going.

"I had decided to take some time off for myself before finding a job, and I was dating a new guy. He wasn't Luke, but he was sweet. Things were going really well, and I was baking cookies one day, and there was a knock on my door. It was Luke. I had never been more angry, and sad, and happy all at once. But then he grabbed me. He tried to tie me up, and he, he..." Her voice trailed off. She hoped Sam would get the idea. "I begged him to stop, I loved him. But he wouldn't. So I stabbed him, but that's when I found out. It wasn't Luke, it was a Demon. Somehow, I excersized that mother fucker, but Luke was dead. I stabbed him. I should have known, I should have done something. I killed him." Janelle's story ended in a whisper, with silent tears rolling down her face.

Without another word, Sam put his arms around Janelle and pulled her in close while she cried. Her chest heaved up and down with each sob. She nuzzled her face into Sam's shoulder and let it out. It had been the first time she'd told someone what had actually happened. She told the police he'd attacked her, and she killed him in self-defence. But she lived with the guilt and pain. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Luke's blonde hair and pale blue eyes staring at her. She remembered the day she walked out the door and left him. That was the last time she'd really seen him, with tears in his eyes as he tried not to cry. His lean body quivering as she shouted. And then she'd left. And then she killed him.

"So, my mom put me in counselling." Janelle heaved between sobs. "But it didn't help, I couldn't really talk about it. They would have locked me up with a case of the crazies. So I just pulled it together, I got a job interview. I walked through the motions for months, but my mom saw straight through it. She sent me here 'to get away from it all' so she says, but I really know it's so she doesn't have to deal with me or the public reaction to her daughter being a wreck." Janelle was a blubbering mess in Sam's arms. She'd never meant to tell anyone what had happened, least of all a stranger. But Sam's muscular arms were a safe place. He was warm, and caring. He rubbed her back and held her tight, rocking her in an attempt to soothe her.

Eventually, Janelle calmed down. She sat up and looked at Sam. He was staring at a spot on the wall. His eyes were deep-set, and beautiful. Everything about his face was beautiful, and from what Janelle could see, so was his body. She took the moment to just appreciate his beauty before speaking.

"Thank you." She whispered. Sam looked down at her and smiled.

"Anytime." He smiled, but he looked pained. Janelle was interested, but she didn't want to push it. She still wasn't sure exactly why she'd told Sam about Luke, and if Sam had some dark secret then it was his to share when he wanted to. Or maybe he just felt really sorry for her. It was hard to say.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Janelle's voice was back up to normal volume, and she seemed calm. They were still sitting on the edge of the bed together. Sam's arms weren't around her anymore, but her head was leaned on his shoulder, with his on top of hers.

"Shoot."

"Can I hunt with you and Dean?"


End file.
